The Missing Mountain

Ghost Mountain
Note: I found my old Moleskine journal. I have had it since 2004! And it still isn’t filled up. Here is an entry from February 4, 2010. It is interesting to read retrospectively. 

I am sitting in my office and I am watching cars drive hurriedly past my window, swooshing through the puddles the rain is creating. The rain comes down heavily and the sky is gray and dark. I feel like I haven’t seen blue sky in weeks. I haven’t seen Mt. Hood in weeks, even though I live in its shadow. The people driving by are driving home to Portland having spent the day on the mountain but I can’t see it because it is covered in clouds.

I think about how my heart skips a beat when I drive to  Welches on a clear day and the massive peak appears from behind the trees in all her wondrous glory. I smile at her beauty. I feel honored and blessed to be living here and to be able to see this on my way to work.

I think about last summer when Raf and I stayed at Timberline Lodge. I think about the evening I walked alone up the path to the Pacific Crest Trail and basked in the beauty of the fields of alpine Lupines. I stood there, looking at them in awe, and it was so quiet that I could hear the buzzing of hundreds of bumble bees. I stood still and enjoyed that moment and I felt totally and completely happy.

I miss that feeling . I am missing Mt. Hood. I’m tired of the rain and clouds and gray. I want to witness her magnificence again.

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